Lethe and Mnemosyne
by Initial A
Summary: As Emma rushes to rescue Killian before it's too late, she's tricked by Hades into sacrificing herself once again for the people she loves. But the Savior's learned a few tricks of her own in her time as the Dark One. (Speculation for 5.14, written before promo material came out.)
1. Lethe

**This was originally a one-off, part of _Staring Down the Sun_. Speculation for 5.14 that kind of... exploded a little. Three-part story, part three coming soon.**

* * *

Emma froze, her boot skidding on a pebble and throwing off her balance briefly. Heart pounding in her throat, she waited, watching, staring at the toes of his shoes to make sure they weren't any closer to the Lethe pool.

After a full minute, her knuckles started to hurt from clenching so tight.

God damn, motherfucking, son of a _bitch_.

"Oh right, did I not mention that? Forgetful me, just so much going on around here lately it's all starting to blur together." His laugh sent chills down her spine. Hades talked like a used car salesman and she trusted him even less. "See, the closer you get to saving your boyfriend, the closer he gets to my little pool here. Now, there's a trick to it and if you're even half as smart as my friend here has told me, you'll figure it out. Otherwise... it's a real shame True Love's Kiss doesn't work on amnesia."

She didn't want to turn around and give him the satisfaction of watching his little theatrics, she just shifted her weight on the narrow beam and considered her options. She'd made it about four feet before the first drop, still another ten before the platform. There were still about three feet between his shoes and the pool's surface - _maybe_. The glow and the platform made it hard to tell for sure. Maybe thirty inches or so between her Killian and some version of him that wouldn't know her. Or maybe he'd have to be fully submerged... though who was to say that once his feet hit the chain wouldn't just give way?

Emma didn't really feel like going fishing today.

She narrowed her eyes, concentrating a little. Her heart swelled when her magic engulfed Killian's body, but the magic exploded out and away from him, causing the ground to rumble and the rocks overhead to smash together in an almost deafening grind. Emma screamed, losing her balance, but she managed to twist herself around in time to grab the beam with both arms and hold on for dear life. She didn't dare look down.

When the shaking stopped and she could hear herself think - actually, she just heard slow clapping. "Oh, I _hoped_ you'd try that," Hades said. "I'll even be nice and not drop him further; that was a spectacular reaction. Light magic always reacts the best, but that was something else; bravo little Savior."

Emma's jaw hurt from grinding her teeth together. She's going to find the deepest pit in this hellscape and dropkick this smartass megalomaniac into it the first change she got.

It took a bit before she could figure out how to swing herself back up onto the beam, but Emma didn't get to her feet just yet. She straddled the beam, calculating. She only glanced down once, the green, soul-filled river below flowing by in silence; it was weird that the water didn't splash or ripple, the pale souls making no wails of complaint about their predicament. And while he clearly loved gloating in her failures, she begrudgingly appreciated that Hades remained silent while she tried to decide on her next move.

Aside from the quiet clink of Killian's chains and her heartbeat and breathing in her ears, the Underworld was silent.

At length, Emma stood. "Please tell me you're going to try and magic yourself over there, that one's my favorite," Hades commented.

"Nope," Emma replied, popping the p and shifting her stance.

She gave herself to the count of three, then sprinted; she had to trust in her feet to stay on the narrow beam, she couldn't look down, only watching the rate at which Killian's body dropped with every foot of ground she gained. Her feet hit the platform just as Killian's were scant inches from the surface of the pool and she _lunged_ , tackling him across the narrow opening and landing hard on the other side.

"Killian," she gasped, looking towards his feet to make sure he was clear of the pool. " _Killian,_ wake up, you're _okay_."

She cupped his cheek and tilted his face towards her, her heart wrenching at how bloodied and bruised he was.

He wasn't breathing.

Did the dead need to breathe here?

There was a muffled shout on the rock ledge and Emma looked up as Hades started clapping again. Her heart sank.

Killian, bound and gagged, stood next to Hades. He looked much like his flickering ghost had in the graveyard, but he stood awkwardly, most of his weight shifted to his right leg. Her heart sank further, throat closing in as she realized he was fighting his restraints, fighting to get to her or to Hades, but wincing with every movement. Just what had Hades done to him? And for the love of God why?

"You know, I'm actually impressed, Emma," Hades said, bringing her attention back to him. He stood with his hands in his pockets, as casual as if they were chatting in the lawyer's office he was dressed for. "Only one mistake before you figured it out, I underestimated you."

The dummy in her arms vanished in cold flames, leaving her alone on the platform. She got to her feet with a wince - she'd landed awkwardly - walking around the opening to the path back to the ledge. "Most people do," she shot back, fed up with this psycho and his games.

Only when she tried to step back onto the path, she struck an invisible barrier.

She pushed at it, blue fire rippling through the air out from her palms before vanishing again. Protection spell - or a caging spell. Emma glared across the chasm. "Seriously?"

Hades vanished in a column of flame, only to reappear in front of her. "You have no idea the game you're trying to play, little princess," he said, his voice cold, his disarmingly affable mannerisms gone. Emma forced herself to stand still, refusing to back down as the magical weight of his godhood started to press on her. Flames slowly crept up his scalp as he spoke. "You know, for all your rejection of the title, you sure do have the spoiled attitude of royalty. You come into _my_ kingdom, uproot _my_ system and _my_ order, demanding _I_ return what _I_ took?"

He stepped forward, orange flame starting to tint the blue on his head. Emma was forced to take a step back as he passed through the barrier. "It's so like you mortals, passing the blame of your misfortunes onto us hard-working gods." He kept walking, backing her up with every step. "'It wasn't _me_ , _Fortuna_ doesn't favor me!' ' _The Ourea_ didn't bless my journey.' ' _Eros_ doesn't favor me!' ' _Hypnos_ has cursed me.' 'It's _Demeter's_ fault _._ '" The flames flared crimson for a moment. Hades took a breath and they resettled to orange-blue. He jabbed a finger into her chest. "Well, listen to me, little princess. We don't have time to mess up your pathetic little lives. We're too busy cleaning up your messes. I took _nothing_ from you. _You_ ran him through, _you_ get to suffer the consequences."

Emma's foot slipped and she realized she was at the edge of the opening, the Lethe pool not far below her. She looked up at Hades, her skin icy despite the heat he gave off in his anger. "It wasn't fair," she said, each word a labor to speak.

He looked almost bored with her. "Newflash, sweetheart. Life never is."

He vanished, the immediate removal of his magical presence allowing her to breathe more freely. He appeared on the other side of the chasm, the flames retreating from his head as he spoke. "Only one way out, Emma Swan. You've been a headache for me since you got here. I'll consider your memories and your soul enough payment to return your pirate and your family to the mortal realms in peace. Doubtless you'll be glad to be rid of them, from what I understand of the last few weeks."

Emma looked back down at the pool. She could hear Killian's muffled shouts against the gag.

A soul for a soul. That was the price, wasn't it?

It wasn't like Hades was giving her much of a choice. And she was the one who was stupid enough to run down here without telling anyone. "What happens to me after?" she asked, glancing back at him.

Hades rolled his eyes. "You'll get in line for judgement like everyone else here. It'll take a while, but most things do. It's like the DMV down here, only you've got nowhere else to be."

Emma turned back to the pool. So until judgement she'd become a wandering soul like everyone else here. Only without her memories. And with her physical body. Maybe? How did that even work down here?

Something niggled in the back of her mind, something about Lethe and Greek mythology. There's always a cure, isn't there? Every good deed has a reward, every ill has punishment? For everything bad, there's something to counter it? Some stupidly complicated name, something that - if she did this, if she did this _stupid_ thing she was really considering in exchange for Killian's life and her family - could reverse it...

And gods couldn't go back on their word without punishment.

"Swear to me," Emma said, turning suddenly. "Swear on the Styx you'll return them with no harm. Swear that once I do this, you'll leave them alone."

He rolled his eyes again. "You mortals and your clauses... Fine. I swear on the sacred Styx that once you jump into the Lethe, I will release Killian Jones's soul and the physical bodies and souls of your family, and no further harm will come to them until they finally kick the bucket."

Emma nodded while Killian screamed her against his gag. She looked at him, heart in her throat, praying this would work. "Killian," she said softly. He ceased struggling, his good eye trained on her like she was going to vanish at any second - and in a way, she was. "Killian, I found you. And you always find me, right?" He nods and even from here she can see him trying to figure out what she's saying. "You always come for me, no matter what. And I love you. Take care of Henry."

She lifted one foot, hovering over the pool. She kept her gaze locked on Killian. "Mnemosyne."

The last thing she heard as she jumped into the Lythe was Hades' outraged scream.


	2. Liam

A man found her on the beach.

She didn't remember how she got to the beach. It felt like she'd just _appeared_ there, like she'd always been on that beach.

Maybe she had.

He's a nice man, at least. His voice sounded different than hers, a clipped lilt to his vowels where her words sounded so flat in comparison. She didn't know why. She had to look up to see him properly, take in his brown hair that looked like it wanted to be a little longer just so it could curl better, his striking pale blue eyes, and his warm smile.

He told her his name was Liam Jones.

She didn't remember her name. She didn't know if she'd ever _had_ a name.

There was a ring on a chain around her neck that he's very interested in for some reason. She didn't know how she got it, only that she was holding it when he found her. She tried to give it to him, since he seemed so interested, but he just asked to look at it closer. Something on his face changed as he inspected it - it's just a little bit of silver, some flowery design on the sides and a rather plain stone at the crown. Whatever it was made him put the ring in her hand and curl her fingers around it. "Do you remember who gave this to you, lass?"

She shook her head. "I don't - I've always had it. I think."

Liam tilted his head, inspecting her. There's a sad sort of smile on his face. "You've had a mishap with the Lethe," he told her gently. He offered her his arm and she took it gingerly. "You have that same sort of confusion about you, I've seen it in others. Don't worry, I'll keep you company until the owner of this ring comes looking for it."

She walked with him, wondering what the Lethe was and what mishap she'd had with it. And she couldn't help the thought that bubbled up, slipping out before she could stop it, "But _I'm_ the owner of this ring."

Liam chuckled. It was a nice sound. "Aye, love. But something tells me that the man who gave it to you is a bit loathe to give both of you up without a fight."

She didn't know what that meant. She didn't know how to ask, since he didn't seem very keen on explaining more than that.

* * *

The moment Emma vanished into the Lethe pool, Killian's restraints, too, vanished. Hades' temper tantrum cooled to a sizzle. "Your girlfriend seems to have learned a few tricks as the Dark One," he snarled.

No, that was entirely Emma. Though Killian didn't quite know the significance of _mnemosyne_ as yet, he knew it was likely the key to undoing the loss of her memories and the retrieval of her soul.

It's a blow to Hades, though, Killian knew that. She'd coerced from him an oath on the Styx, one that was nigh unbreakable lest Hades face a decade of punishment. And seeing as how he wanted his operation here to continue running as he liked, Killian would bet every ounce of his gold that Hades did not wish to be stripped of godhood for ten mortal years.

"What's mnemosyne?" he asked, wincing as he turned to face the god.

Hades arched an eyebrow, his black mood ebbing away with his flames. "Wait, wait, wait. Captain Killian Jones, lore collector for decades upon decades, doesn't know the significance of the word _mnemosyne_? Oh this is a good one," he said with a hearty laugh. "Oh, this might just make up for the little stunt she just pulled. Really, thank you, I haven't had a recovery like this in years."

Hades snapped his fingers and suddenly Killian could see from both eyes. "Nice try, Captain," he said, only half insincere. "But I made your little princess a promise. I don't intend to break it. Back to your friends with you, there's a boat with your name on it - not literally, though that could be arranged if you wanted a more _personal_ touch."

Killian opened his mouth to retort, but Hades snapped his fingers again and all he could see were blue flames.

* * *

Liam had a little house near the beach, on the edge of a field of vivid red flowers. He explained that the location was how he found her; he'd been watching the waves from the window when she'd appeared out of nowhere. "It's not the first time," he assured her, pulling out a chair at the little table. "This place is where lost souls are most drawn to. It's sort of a middle ground, the land falling away into the sea, the overlap on the sand. It's fitting, when you think about it."

She didn't know what was so fitting about it, but he didn't seem too bothered by that. He started making tea and she looked around the small room. It was really more of a shack on the beach, though it's well-built. One room, with a bed in one corner and the kitchen opposite it. There's a fireplace catty-corner to the bed, with a plush chair and a stack of books on the table next to it. At the foot of the bed is a chest, and next to the door is a small coat rack and a tall bookshelf. "Cosy," she said, for lack of any other way of describing it, and from the way Liam chuckled he couldn't help but agree.

There's a row of drawings on the wall next to the bed. She couldn't help herself, standing up and going to inspect them. "My family," Liam said quietly as she leaned in to look further.

There's a woman with a tumble of dark hair, her eyes the same shape as Liam's. There was serenity in her smile, even as the portrait gave off a sense of weariness. The man next to her held himself with assurance, his hair a carefree mess, with clever eyes and a smirk on his lips.

The third portrait held her attention the longest. He looked young, something about his features giving her the sense that he yearned to prove himself somehow. His dark hair was tied back into a ponytail, his eyes clearly the same as his mother and brother, his nose and the upturn of his lips coming from his father.

"They're beyond me now," Liam said quietly, bringing her attention back to him. "How do you take your tea, love?"

She touched the ring that hung from her neck for something to do with her fingers. She spared one last glance to the portraits, then moved to sit at the table. "Just milk and honey, please."

* * *

Killian hissed, wincing as the magic scoured and healed his wounds. Regina glared at him, carefully moving her hand along the worst of it. "Be quiet and be still," she ordered. "If you wanted someone to coddle you and be nice about it you shouldn't have let Emma do something so stupid."

"Had I the choice, your majesty," he snapped.

The library bustled with activity, Henry bringing stacks of books on mythology to a worn table while his mother worked her magic. "I know I heard that word before," he said, eyeing the chair and then thinking better of it. Killian didn't blame him for being cautious; he was more surprised there was enough reading material in this version of their library to do any research.

Snow pulled a dictionary over, flipping it open to N. "Mnemosyne," she muttered it several times under her breath as she flipped through the pages. Killian noted with mild amusement the few times she tried stressing different syllables, as if it might help her find the definition faster.

"It's not related to pneumonia, is it?" David asked. "Try p-n."

Snow did with a sigh. Regina stepped back, giving Killian a cursory once-over. "There's nothing I can do about your clothes," she informed him. "But I can magic you a new brace; Emma had your hook, last I knew."

Killian ached at the thought as Regina crafted a new brace for him; Hades had taken it from him, now he knew the god had likely used it to taunt Emma. Killian didn't want to think of her worried for him, keeping his hook in her pocket like some talisman.

He didn't want to think of where she might be now, wondering why she'd have such a thing.

If she'd leave it somewhere, unaware of the significance.

"Try m-n," Regina said, leaving Killian to his new brace. "See if it's something to do with mnemonic."

Snow complied, pages sliding back so fast she might have ripped one or two. "What's that?" Henry asked, flipping to the index of his own book and trying the same.

Snow practically stabbed the page in her excitement. "Mnemonic!" she said, her excitement radiating off her in waves. She began to read off the page. "'A device such as a pattern of letters, ideas, or associations that assists in remembering something. Or, aiding or designed to aid the memory.'"

 _Of course_ , Killian realized. The Lethe removed memories. If Emma had ever studied her mythology, then she may have learned something that would assist in the restoration of it. "Brilliant, Swan, devising your own rescue as always," he whispered, striding over to the table just as Henry yelped.

He flipped his own book back. "Mnemosyne! It's..." he paused, bending further over the page, "'the sacred pool of the goddess Mnemosyne, counterpart to the river Lethe. The dead who drink from its waters reverse the effects of the river Lethe, retaining the memories of their previous life and ending the cycle of reincarnation. Initiates of the goddess Mnemosyne drink from the pool to obtain omniscience and better serve in Her service.' So Mom just has to drink from the pool and she'll get her memories back!"

"Easier said than done," Regina said. "We don't know where she is."

"And we don't know where the pool is," David added.

Killian nudged Henry's book out of the lad's hands, flipping through the pages until he found the entry on the river Lethe. A slow grin spread across his face. "We do know where she is," he said, pointing at one sentence.

 _The river Lethe flows through the poppy fields of Nyx, infusing them with a draught only the powerful can ever fully awaken from; only to empty into the Ocean of Forgotten Souls._

* * *

The window in the kitchen overlooked the field of flowers. "You lucked out," she said quietly, watching the red blossoms sway in the breeze. "No neighbors, ocean view, no need for landscaping..." She drifted off, unsure why she knew of these things but not if she'd ever had these things herself.

"They're poppies, love," Liam explained, coming up to her and offering a sugar cookie. "Quite dangerous, actually, if not handled properly. One wrong sniff around these blooms and it's worse than any sleeping curse."

She smiled, glancing up at him. "Not a lot of Prince Charmings around here, I take it?"

Liam quirks an eyebrow at her, looking at her strangely for a long moment. "Odd way of putting it," he said finally.

"You know, because he woke Snow White or Sleeping Beauty or whichever one -"

"Aye, lass, I'm familiar with the tales," he said, not unkindly. "I just find it interesting which parts of your mind the Lethe has taken and which it left alone."

She glanced down, fingering the uneaten sugar cookie. She felt the same, but she wasn't sure how to talk about it. "I feel like there's a lot of holes," she admitted. "Like my brain's a big donut or something."

That made him laugh and she felt better for it. "Well, donut-brain," Liam said, his lilting voice teasing, "I'll bet that between the two of us we could fix something spectacular for dinner."

She frowned, trying to remember if dinner is something she knew how to make or if this Lethe thing had taken that too. "You might have to teach me," she said.

He just smiled kindly, putting his arm around her shoulder and steering her towards the little kitchen.

* * *

There weren't many vantage points in hell, not with the clocktower torn and broken. They discussed splitting up, heading north and south along the coast until they found the poppy field, but no one seemed very keen to leave the others, just in case.

As in Camelot, they would find Emma together, or not at all.

"The nearest river in our world flows south into the ocean," Robin said. "Let's see if it matches up."

They walked down to the docks, heading south along the shoreline. If the mental map of the town Killian carried served him correctly, the cave that emptied from the mines was situated in the north; the north woods bordered the shoreline there. The fact that the southern coast was more sea grass than pine tree gave him comfort.

Poppies didn't grow in the shade.

They didn't walk for long, perhaps not more than half an hour, before Henry started bouncing on the balls of his feet and running forward. "I see them, I see them!"

"Careful, Henry!" David called.

" _Gramps_."

Regina's lips flattened. "Henry, think _Wizard of Oz_ poppies. I'm not so sure snow would work here."

A sigh drifted back to them, and the adults begrudgingly chuckled. Killian understood the lad's impatience, but Regina was right: anything claimed by the gods as their right, as these poppies were by Nyx, were inherently dangerous.

They steered wide of the poppy field, everyone's gazes twisting this way and that in search of a flash of blonde hair or the crimson of her jacket. Killian rubbed the worn metal of his ring with his thumb, growing more concerned the longer they traveled. The land here was fairly flat; they should be able to see her standing or even sitting. Had Hades done one worse, perhaps, after discovering Emma's trick? Had he sent someone to drag her into the poppy fields? She could be out cold anywhere in the fields, hidden from view and, worse, never able to awaken again.

 _It's too bad True Love's Kiss doesn't work on amnesia_.

Several yards ahead, Henry stopped dead in his tracks. "Mom? Are there any houses here in Storybrooke?"

* * *

A knock at the door startled her. "Keep chopping, love, I'll see what the trouble is," Liam said, not sounding as if there was any trouble at all.

She nodded; still, her eyes darted over to watch his back, just in case. The little house and its picturesque views seemed peaceful enough, but the longer she stayed here, the more something felt _wrong_. She didn't think Liam held any bad intentions, but she couldn't shake the notion that someone else nearby did.

She didn't know how to say that without being rude.

The door opened and all she heard was a broken whisper, "Killian?"

" _Liam_."

The man who spoke had the same kind of lilt to his voice as Liam did. She looked over her shoulder just in time to see Liam embrace someone roughly. There were several other people outside on the porch but she couldn't make them out very well. Liam pulled away, stepping to the side enough for her to see a man in a very tattered leather jacket. The man's posture changed; she could just make out his eyes widening. " _Emma!_ "

He sounded so relieved, calling her by a name he must have thought was hers. The man in the leather jacket started to rush forward but Liam stopped him with a hand on his elbow. "Killian, she doesn't know."

"Do I know you?" she asked, setting the knife down and wiping her hands on a towel. The man approached more slowly, cautiously, as if he thought she might run if he moved too quickly. He looked at her with a kind of reverence that unnerved her; the intensity of it made her feel like it was difficult to breathe. "Or _did_ I, I guess. Liam keeps saying something about a Lethe taking my memories."

The closer he got, she realized the resemblance to the young man in the portrait on the wall. He's older, he'd cut off the ponytail at some point, but she recognized his mother's eyes and the way he'd grown more into his father's features. Even their beards grew in the same pattern "You're Liam's brother," she guessed. "He's got a picture of you."

He lifted his hand - belatedly she realized he only had the one - reaching as if to touch her cheek but thought better of it at the last moment. "Aye, lass," he said, his voice cracking as he pulled his hand back and curled it into a light fist. He stared at her as if she might vanish if he looked away. "I'm Killian Jones."

She nodded, a little uncomfortable at just how much he was staring. She just wished she understood _why_ he looked at her like that. She took a slight step backwards, trying to lessen the intensity, and something in him shifted. The look lessened, turning more tender and allowing her to breathe more freely. She liked this tender look better; it made her feel warm and less like an inferno was about to swallow her up.

Liam came up to them as a crowd of people walked into the house. She looked them over, wondering why so many people had apparently come looking for her; two women, both with dark hair, though one wore hers cropped short; two men, both fair and with similar intense ways of holding themselves; and one young man with dark hair who looked at her with a similar smile of relief as Killian. "She doesn't know herself, brother," Liam said softly.

"But she can," Killian said, his voice cracking again. "She told me how to fix it before she jumped in. Brother please," he said, tearing his gaze away from her for the first time. "Please tell me you know about a Mnemosyne pool."

She looked up. Liam had a strange look on his face, as if he was both happy and sad at once. "I do," he said. "It's disguised as a well in the forest."

"It's _always_ the well," the young man said. She glanced over, brow furrowing in confusion; he said it as if this were a common occurrence, but how strange a place these people must be from for a boy to sound so jaded.

Liam chuckled. "Aye, well, there's a bit of a catch, I'm afraid."

The woman with long hair scoffed. "Of course there is. Another sacrifice?"

"No, I'm afraid this one's a bit more work," he said. "It has to be her choice."

She glanced between the brothers. Killian looked confused. "Of course it's her choice. She gave me the answer before she jumped, she _chose_ to be rescued already."

But Liam was shaking his head. "That was before. Do you really think she's the first person to name the pool before submitting themselves to the Lethe, brother?"

Killian's voice shook. "What are you saying?"

"Hades set me here long ago. It's my penance to see the hundreds of souls wash up on the shoes of the Ocean of Forgotten Souls, watch as hundreds of rescue missions fall short because the soul in question cannot remember why they would ever want to restore their memories." Liam turned to look at the group. "So, your task is laid before you: find a way to convince Emma to return to the land of the living, or return there without her."


	3. Mnemosyne

Snow took a cautious step forward. "Emma?"

It pained Killian to see his Swan so uncertain. At any other time he would be at her side, steadying her and offering her his assistance until that wary, indistinct look in her eyes vanished. Her eyes darted between every face and he couldn't begin to fathom what she was thinking. Was she trying to recognize anyone? Did she wonder why they were there? Was there any inkling that told her how so very loved she was, so deeply and by so many?

At any other time he could support her. At any other time she was Emma Swan, princess and Savior, the true love of his life.

This was not one of those times.

As Snow continued her slow steps, offering her hand to her daughter in peace with a timid smile, he's vividly reminded of his and Emma's adventure to the past. Her heartbreak at thinking her mother was dead, the tears clinging to her cheeks and eyelashes; then, in the crocodile's vault, when she'd held more tears back as she'd explained that she'd been so happy to see her mother alive and well but she'd seen no look of recognition in return.

It made his chest ache to see the same scenario inverted, the same timidly hopeful look contrasted against the blank perturbed one.

From the corner of his eye he saw Liam take a step away. Emma's head whipped to the side, a silent plea in her eyes not to leave her alone to these strangers, but Liam shook his head. Despite the ache he felt, Killian had to smile.

He'd always privately thought that Liam would love Emma, if circumstances had been vastly different. They hadn't known one another for more than a few hours and already they could communicate with just a few looks - or perhaps this, too, was something Liam was used to.

"Liam," Killian said quietly. He jerked his head towards the door when his brother glanced his way. He wanted to speak privately about that, this so-called penance set by Hades.

He'd wait until the end to speak to Emma.

Stepping onto the porch, Killian sighed. The wind blowing off the sea smelled of salt and sulfur, a discomforting mix compared to the brine he loved so well. Liam closed the door behind him. "You undoubtedly have questions, brother," he began, "but permit me to ask one first. How the devil did you get here, Killian? Not many people come barreling down here after their loved ones."

One corner of his mouth lifted. "Would it surprise you to learn that I'm the one who's dead?" Killian asked.

"Killian." He glanced askance, smiling ruefully at the pitying look on Liam's face. "I think you should tell me the whole story. We've got time, brother."

So he did. He wove the tale of his life, from the moments after Liam's burial to the tale of his more colorful moniker to his last breaths, attempting to die a hero and vanquishing the Darkness. "It failed, ultimately. I knew the moment the sword vanished that it had only gone to reform again elsewhere. Emma, she was too distraught to notice. I suppose she figured it out and came to set things to rights," Killian said, glancing down. "She's a brilliant lass, Liam."

"She'd have to be, to come charging down here after you," Liam said, not unkindly. He ran his hand through his hair. "Bloody hell, you have lived a life, haven't you?"

"Aye."

"But what happened here? Why did she fall into the Lethe?"

Killian sighed. "Hades set a trap. I refused to follow his orders - he'd been quite happy using me as a whipping boy and a chew toy for that monstrous hound of his, my penance for the sins in my life, but Emma… she and her family have been raising hell to find me. Hades took it out on me, then set a trap for her. He made me watch, but she - she bargained. She made him swear a holy oath to release us if she did it."

Liam nodded. "And he can't break a holy oath without harsh penalties," he said slowly. "Clever lass."

"Aye. She knew of the Mnemosyne pool, told me the name before she jumped. Now we're here."

Liam blew out a breath, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Well… I suppose if she told you how to undo it, that's reason enough to allow the attempt. But it still has to be her choice now, Killian. The waters of the Mnemosyne are powerful, but to the unwilling or the immoral they're merely plain water."

Killian nodded. He understood that part - he'd never force Emma to anything regardless, but it worried him that she might still say no. Liam wouldn't lie, couldn't be cruel enough to tell them outright that it wouldn't work. But he wouldn't give them false hope, either.

What would her family do?

What would _he_ do?

He cleared his throat against the sudden tightness. "Liam, why would Hades set you such a penance?" he asked quietly. "You led a just and true life. I earned my beatings ten times over, but this…"

His brother sighed again. "My downfall was pride," Liam said. "Pride at how quickly I rose through the Navy's ranks, the power and respect I gained from my crew and peers. It was pride that took us to Neverland, brother, and pride that was ultimately my downfall. I was too proud to admit I was wrong, that you were in the right to be cautious in a new land - and then I was too proud to think that directly going home to accuse our king was a foolish idea.

"It was my pride that led you down the path of villainy, little brother. And my pride that indirectly caused the deaths of so many."

"Younger," Killian said almost automatically, making Liam chuckle.

He reached up and swiped at his eyes. "Aye, you've earned that, I suppose. Younger brother. At first, I was like any other wandering soul here, awaiting judgement. When judgement day came, there were enough stains on my soul to warrant a penance, duty to fulfill until the stains were swept clean and I could move on to the Elysian fields. So Hades set me here, in the between-lands of souls who have forgotten and forgotten souls, to keep watch. It's a bit like minding a lighthouse, I suppose." Killian chuckles at that and Liam smiles. "Most of the time, I can only offer a kind ear and a friendly face until the souls I find need to move on. However… Those who succumb to the Lethe and have no one to remember them on the surface get swept under the ocean's waves." Liam paused for a long moment, his smile fading as he looked out towards the water. "I can only watch."

He took a shuddering breath. "My penance is to swallow my pride almost every day. I'm reminded that I'm powerless, in the end, that I can't make anyone's choices for them or set them on their right path. And I'm forced to remember that I can't ever save everyone, no matter how much I want to." Killian reached for him, but Liam chuckled wetly, swiping at his eyes again. "Though Hades never took into account that I already exist with those reminders daily."

Killian shook his head. "Liam."

"You, my brother," Liam said. "I tried so hard to make a good example for you, to protect you and show you how to be a good man, especially after Father… But you were always your own man, Killian. You had a good head on your shoulders. I was just," he broke off, chuckling again. "I suppose I was just too proud to see it."

Killian didn't know what to say to that. So he chose not to say anything; instead, he crossed the porch and seized Liam in a fierce hug, a lump rising in his throat when Liam held him just as tight. If either of them wept in that moment or the few that followed, they chose not to mention it.

* * *

The door opened and she - _Emma, my name is Emma. I think_ , she thought desperately as she looked towards the door, so confused about the last half hour and the conversations that had happened. The young man was her son, Henry, whom she shared custody with the woman with long hair - _Regina_ \- who was not only her step-grandmother, but whose partner was the man with the bow and arrow - _Robin Hood_ of all people. That left the two people claiming to be her parents, Snow White and Prince Charming - _David_ \- and all she wanted to do was climb into the trunk at the foot of Liam's bed until they all went away and left her alone.

Even with her donut-brain she knew they all had to be crazy people to believe this story they were telling her.

But Killian and Liam stepped inside, both looking worn but somehow relieved. Maybe they'd had a better talk outside than she'd been having in here. And as much as she wanted to climb into the trunk and lock herself in, she wanted to know why Killian had looked at her the way he did. She wanted to know why his first instinct had been to try and touch her, why he made her feel like a forest fire was consuming her entire soul.

She wanted to know why he made her feel poetic like this.

Regina squeezed her hand. "Emma, I think you had better talk with him in private," she said gently. "He's probably going to get mushy and then your father will want to kill him - _again_ \- and you've gone through far too much for that right now."

She - _Emma, I'm Emma_ , she thought, but it wasn't sticking - nodded. Killian looked at her with that tender smile again and she couldn't help but notice how kind his eyes looked when he smiled. She glanced at Liam, who nodded, and Killian offered her his arm like some kind of fancy person. She made a face even as she took it and it made him laugh. "You always feel the need to mock me when I'm a gentleman, love," Killian explained at her inquiring noise. "It's a comfort to know that you mock me regardless of the state of your mind."

They left the little house and after a moment decided to walk down the beach. "Why do you look at me like that if I make fun of you?" she asked.

"How do I look at you?"

He seemed genuinely interested to know and that startled her more than the fact that he wasn't immediately launching into a hundred reasons why she should go and drink this memory water. She blinked. "I don't know," she said honestly. "It's… I guess it's pretty intense and I feel like I'm on fire, but then like when you came inside and that - Regina, I think - when she said to go with you, it was gentle and your eyes were kind. It didn't feel overwhelming."

He made a noise of agreement. "Well, I suppose I look at you in those ways _because_ of how you feel the need to mock me at every turn," he said, his voice only slightly teasing. "We know one another quite well, Swan. When we met, all you knew about me was that I was dangerous and untrustworthy - yet you had no qualms about baring my throat and holding a knife to it or leaving me for the ogres to tear apart if I didn't go along with you."

Her brow furrowed. "I did that?"

Killian chuckled. "Aye, and a bit more. You've never been afraid of me, even when you had plenty of reason to be, and it was, in all honesty, an unexpected breath of fresh air. We haven't always been on the same side, love, or even _liked_ one another, but we've always _understood_ one another."

"That seems… weird."

"Indeed."

She found herself leaning in to him as they walked and it wasn't even a conscious effort. It was like her body knew how theirs fit best together when walking side-by-side - and she didn't dislike it. They walked for a long while without saying anything and she wondered _why_ he wasn't trying to convince her, _why_ he wasn't trying to shower her with things he thought were true and he thought might be enough to lure her in. ("You have a little brother, he'd love to grow up knowing his big sister, not just knowing _about_ her." "I already spent ten years without you, Mom, I can't spend the rest of my life not knowing you.")

"You're not doing a very good job of convincing me," she said finally.

"You wouldn't want me to," Killian told her.

That made her look up at him. The tender look was back, this time accessorized with an arched eyebrow and a smirk. "And why's that?"

"The you that I know, love," he amends. "You're the most bloody stubborn lass. You'd prefer I let you make up your own mind on what to do."

That surprised her - this man seemed to think he understood her better than the people claiming to be her family. What's more, something in her relaxed at the idea that he wouldn't be pestering her with tiny details about something she didn't remember. "Are we something?" she asked, changing the subject a bit. "Like, are we in that book Henry was talking about?"

"I suppose the lad's heartbroken he couldn't convince you with it," Killian said. "We are in the book, actually. Quite on accident, as it happens."

She asked him if he'd explain and he did. Killian had a way about him that made her feel like he could tell the most outlandish story and make it feel like it really happened, but even _this_ story - time travel and a wicked witch, pirates and princesses, imprisonment and kidnapping - had to be too crazy for someone to make up.

Right? Wasn't the truth always stranger than fiction?

There weren't any frills to the story, just what he believed were the facts. She blushed when he told her that the adventure had led to their coming together as a couple. "I guess making sure I was actually born is good enough for a kiss or two," she said dubiously.

Killian laughed at that. "I suppose, though there was a bit more to it than that. Regardless, I remain grateful that you felt you could lower your walls around me, that you could allow me to be so close. And we did end up in Henry's book. It's a lovely portrait, really, of Prince Charles teaching Princess Leia to waltz at her first ball."

Something about the names amused him, but she didn't ask. "So we are something," she said instead.

He drew them to a stop, turning to face her. She watched his face warily, but he only kept his expression gentle. "Emma, I tell you this not to convince you, but only because it's the truth. If this is to be the last conversation we have, just we two, then I implore you take what I say as my truth, my completely biased, flawed, imperfect truth. You are the love of my life," he said softly, with such emotion behind it that she could only believe it to be the absolute truth. "You have done so much for me, given me a reason to lay down all I worked for over centuries, a reason to live again. For myself, not for something I could never have again. You made me believe - in myself, in others, in you. You took a crooked old pirate and reminded him that he was worthy of love, that he was more than a moniker - you reminded me that I was Killian Jones.

"I would give anything to be able to remind you that you're Emma Swan; that you are braver than you know and kinder than you allow yourself to believe. You drive me mad when you dig in your heels and when we fight it feels like you rain hellfire and scorch anyone who dares to get in your way - and you love more fiercely than anyone I have met in my very long life. And if even after all of this you still choose to remain here, then I will have to find some way to be content and know that you are choosing what feels best for _you_."

Her throat felt tight, her eyes stung. She wanted to believe him. Even if it was only because he seemed to believe it so much, she wanted it to be true. She wanted desperately to be this person he loved, but she was afraid - was that person even real? Could she ever hope to live up to this fantastical person he's built up? "How do I know this is real? That any of this - that this Emma Swan person is real?" she whispered, just wanting some sort of guidance, some anchor to tether her to these terrifying, wonderful feelings inside.

Killian lifted his left arm, the one with a leather brace capping the wrist. "Only you can believe that, my love. But I would advise you to check your coat pocket," he said.

She slipped her hand from his, patting both pockets and blinking when she felt something curved and hard in one of them. How hadn't she noticed that? He hadn't slipped it in, no one had - she hadn't let anyone else near enough to do that. She reached into her pocket and her eyes widened when she pulled out a bloodied, curved hook. Killian mutely offered her the brace and to her immense surprise the hook clicked right into place. "How did I have that?" she whispered.

"Hades stole it from me," he said softly. "He used it to taunt you. You must have kept it with the intent to return it to me, but then he tricked you before you could."

She - _Emma_ , she thought with less disbelief than before - slowly looked up from the brace to Killian's face. There was no way she could have not noticed someone putting the hook into her pocket. Like the ring, she must have had it before - before Liam found her, before she woke up on the beach.

He still looked at her so gently, so tenderly, but there was a hint of sadness - fear, even. Like he was afraid she didn't believe him. Like he was afraid she'd choose not to drink the water.

Like he was afraid she'd leave him.

She didn't like that look on his face. Someone who was so kind - someone who allowed her to make up her own mind, donut-holed regardless - didn't deserve to look so sad.

It felt natural to reach up, stand on the tips of her toes, and press her lips against his.

It felt even better when he breathed her name, _Emma_ , against her lips and wrapped his arms around her to hold her fast against his chest.

* * *

She found herself pressing up against Killian's side, half-shielding herself behind him, as they waited for Liam to draw the bucket up from the well. The people who claimed to be her family flanked them on either side; Regina's arm was around Henry's shoulders, Robin at her other side. Snow and David held hands. Killian squeezed her hand in reassurance when she shifted a little further behind him, but her nerves weren't so easily calmed. "What if it doesn't work?" she asked quietly.

"It will, darling," he said. "Godsmagic is different than any other magic, you don't have to believe for it to work."

"Okay, but what if I don't like what I remember? What if I jumped into the Lethe for a reason?"

That had been a nagging thought the entire walk up into the woods were the Mnemosyne well stood. Of all the things everyone had told her, none of them had really been bad - and what if there was a reason for that? Killian had said he was dangerous and yet she hadn't been afraid of him. Why? What if she was a bad person? What if she was better off in this fresh start, a new identity as she waited for Hades' judgement?

She felt him stiffen slightly, then he pulled her a little further away from the group for the illusion of privacy. He turned to face her and she automatically reached for his hook - another thing her body seemed to know how to do without her knowledge. She held it like she would his hand, and he squeezed her other hand with his again. He looked sad, but he tried to smile for her sake. "Only you could know for sure if you truly wanted to forget, but to know that for certain you'd have to remember. No one likes all of their memories, love. I'm proof enough of that. But despite the bad things in someone's life, there's good to balance it out. And I know there's so much good in you, so many good things to outweigh the bad."

She nodded, looking down, though she still wasn't entirely sure she believed him. He untangled their fingers, reaching up to slide his hand along her jaw, tipping her chin up to look at him. She closed her eyes, leaning into his touch slightly - she liked the way he felt, liked the thrum under her skin when he touched her. "Emma," he said, sounding amused even through his urgency. She opened her eyes. "It's still your choice. We can walk away now."

She searched his face, seeing only sincerity that matched his words.

She wanted to know why he looked at her that way. She wanted to know why it felt so normal for their bodies to fit next to one another. She wanted to know what it was about him that made her skin tingle.

She wanted to _remember_ why.

"I want to do this."

Liam was pouring a cup full of water when they rejoined the group. Snow reached out and rubbed her back; she didn't hate that either. "Whenever you're ready, sweetheart," Snow said.

She nodded. Liam smiled in reassurance, holding out the cup for her. Killian squeezed her hand again and that gave her the courage to step forward.

She accepted the cup with hands that only shook a little. Liam gave an encouraging nod.

She didn't look back, didn't try to see the hopeful, expectant looks she thought might be on everyone's faces.

She put the cup to her lips.

 _A family who no longer wanted her. Bigger kids pinching and shoving, stealing food off her plate, adults uncaring if she went to bed with her belly pinching with hunger. Trying to find small moments of happiness - a treehouse, a sparkly rock, a candy bar that no one noticed was missing. Trying not to cry when she kept being sent away. Trying not to scream at night, trying not to have nightmares, trying, trying, trying._

She fell to the forest floor, a wail ripping itself from her throat.

 _Never enough, never enough, never enough._

 _Lily. A friend, hopefully, maybe. They were so alike, so similar, so… Liar. Lily betrayed her trust, got her sent back into the system when she thought she got away. Then Ingrid. Home, hope, happiness. Betrayal - she was crazy, she was going to get them killed, she had to get out of there, get safe. But it wasn't safe, not on the streets, not with -_

There were hands on her shoulders, she heard Liam telling them off for trying to wake her up, but she just wanted it to _stop_.

"Emma, breathe darling. Just breathe," Killian's voice broke through for just a moment, loud and clear.

 _Neal. Tallahassee. They took her baby away, they took her hope, Neal took her innocence. Anger, hurt, why why_ why _. Years of wondering, years of hope fading to ashes, years of -_

 _Henry._

 _Her little boy, come to her rescue. Storybrooke, Graham, trying to grieve and learn to be a sheriff and putting out literal fires every other day. Regina and Mary Margaret and Gold and the apple turnover that almost cost Henry his life._

 _Hope._ Magic _._

She felt someone lift her into their arms, cradling her as her tears flowed. They murmured nonsense, but it helped. It let her relax.

 _A lying blacksmith on the other side of a portal in the world she'd supposedly been born in. A beanstalk and a giant. A feeling of hope but a fear of trust. Pirates and witches and Neal_ died _and their little boy was torn away from them to an island of nightmares._

 _A kiss._

 _A curse._

 _Hope._

Memories assaulted her, overwhelmed her, but someone held on fast until they finally slowed to a stop. She didn't weep for her horrible childhood so much as she wept for what she'd almost lost. She wept for the sword she'd run through Killian's chest, for the lies he'd died for. She wept for the pain she'd caused trying to save everyone, trying to do the right thing even as the Darkness tried to turn her to its own plans.

She'd been right. She'd been right to be afraid of remembering.

Killian kissed her forehead, his grip tightening around her as he swayed a little, trying to soothe her.

But Killian had also been right. And she'd been right to want it.

Emma tilted her head up, blindly searching for him, and as always he seemed to know what she was looking for. He captured her lips with his and she felt the love and reassurance he tried to pour into this kiss. He was here. He was safe. They were going home, together. "You found me," Emma whispered against him.

"And you found me," he murmured.

She pulled away, opening her eyes. He was giving her that look again - the look that told her he loved her. Killian reached up, gently thumbing away her tears. Emma smiled at him, then looked at her family. "Let's go home," she said.

As Killian helped her to her feet and she dried her face on her shirtsleeve, she heard Regina ask, "What's wrong, Henry?"

"What about Liam?"

Emma looked up, surprised, then at Liam, who was shaking his head. "Thank you, lad, but no. I have my penance, but it puts my soul at ease to know my brother is safe and with people who love him."

Emma's eyebrows went up at that. She turned to look at Regina, who seemed to catch on. Regina started to smile. "I think we can do you one better, Captain."

* * *

He gripped Emma's hand like a vice. Though he knew in his heart that his brother was a good and just man, the fact that he'd been judged inadequately before stuck a worry into his heart like a burr in a saddle blanket. The fires rose up and encircled Liam and Emma tucked herself against him protectively, soothingly, holding him as the fires tested their latest subject.

The fires danced and Killian felt like he couldn't breathe.

The fires danced and swirled and finally, finally retreated.

The stone bridge began to build itself across the pit as white light shone across the way.

Emma stepped to the side, allowing him to rush forward. Liam enveloped him in a tight hug and neither of them spoke of the tears burning in their eyes, of the whispered words of affection and apologies, or the way neither seemed to want to let the other go.

"It's time, Captain," Regina said softly, somewhere behind them.

Killian's grown to tolerate, even care for, the formerly evil queen, but he can't help the stab of dislike towards her at rushing his final moments with his brother. Liam pulls his arms away, instead reaching up to cradle Killian's head. "You've grown into a better man than I ever could have hoped for, Killian," he said.

Killian felt Emma's presence coming up behind him. Of course she'd know how difficult this would be, would want to be there to hold him while Liam passed on. With great reluctance, he stepped back; but to his surprise, instead of walking on, Liam went to Emma instead. He watched as Liam held her tightly, then pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Keep an eye on him for me," Liam whispered.

"He'd despair if I didn't," she said, grinning and glancing at Killian. "Thank you, Liam."

Emma tucked herself under Killian's arm as Liam stepped towards the bridge. He felt steadier as she wrapped her arms around him, her head on his shoulder. He didn't blink, his heart both heavy and feeling at peace as he watched his brother cross over and vanish into the light.

They stood there for a long moment as the light faded and the stone bridge vanished. Emma sniffed, reaching up and swiping at her face. "There's a boat waiting," Killian said finally.

"I really, _really_ want to get out of here," she admitted, sounding choked up.

He rested his cheek against her head for a moment, then turned to kiss her hair. "Then by all means, love. Let's go home."

* * *

 **Thank you everyone for reading this! Honestly, I didn't expect to make this three parts, but it turns out that I had WORDS to say, so thank you for going through all of them and leaving such lovely reviews. I hope there was enough sweetness to balance the angst.**


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